Does it mean I’ve beenfriend-zoned?
“I’m sorry, Maverick.” Her smile turns guilty, and she blinks up at me. “I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right. You shouldn’t pass up someone like that for?—”
“Hey.” It’s my turn to interrupt her. “I had zero interest in making that connection.”
“She was just so obvious, and I guess…” Dove holds up her hands. “You’re a grown man. You can look out for yourself.”
“It’s okay.” I pat her shoulder. “I know what she wanted.”
“I think it was about ten minutes of your time.” Owen’s deep laugh joins the conversation.
“Good thing y’all have us now.” Gina smiles, putting her hand on her fiancé’s forearm.
“Who wants shots?” Dove bounces from her seat, holding up her hand. “Me, Gina? Owen?”
“I’d better take it easy,” Gina starts, but Dove waves her away.
“You can do one shot.” Her hand goes to my arm again, and she gives me a gentle pull. “Come on, we need to celebrate my first hockey game and your big win!”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. “Let’s do it!”
I’m on my feet, following the tiny woman with the bigMurphy74across her back through the growing crowd. Her shoulders are straight, and she smiles and waves at Sax and Akers like she’s already part of the group. In my mind, she is.
I’m pretty sure she almost said I shouldn’t have passed up someone like June for someone like her, and if she had, it’s very possible I would’ve said I’d pass up anyone for her.
We stop at the bar, and she puts her elbow on the shiny wood. I stand facing her, guarding her from the rowdygroup. We order shots of tequila, and as we wait, she looks up at me.
“I bet you get that a lot.” Her lips curl, and her blue eyes are so pretty. “I saw all the girls watching you warm up before the game, and they wereinto it.”
Her hair is up in a ponytail now, but a few soft curls frame her pink cheeks. I want to pull her closer, but I can’t get a read on how she feels about that.
Dove has always been sweet to me, but she’s never given me any indication of more. Tonight was the first glimpse, but was that interest or protectiveness?
“Do you care?” I lean down so I don’t have to shout.
“Why Maverick, whatever do you mean?” She puts a hand on her chest dramatically, batting her lashes.
I study her full, glossy lips. Music plays overhead and some people are dancing. It causes the occasional sway of bodies around us, pushing us closer together. Another sway, and I reach out to put my hand on the bar beside her, bracing myself.
It cages her against my body, and with my head bowed, our lips are agonizingly close. The people around us fade away, and my entire focus is on her. “Would you care if I dated someone?”
Our bodies sway closer; her soft breasts press against my arm.
She lifts her chin to speak louder, closer to my cheek. “Is there someone you want to date?”
Another push, and I reach down to put my hand on her narrow waist. “There might be.”
“What’s stopping you?”
My eyes study hers, looking for any sign of encouragement. “I’m not sure how she feels about it.”
“You should ask her.”
My lips part, and I’m about to do just that when the bartender slides a plank of wood with four shot glasses on it across to us. “That’ll be twenty.”
Dove takes the tray while I dig in my pocket for cash, then she seems to think better of it.
“We’d better carry them in this crowd.” She grabs two of the glasses and nods at me. “Get those and come on!”
